The Amber Successor
by Islaymca
Summary: 15-year-old Scarpa lives in District 10. This is the year of the 75th Hunger Games, and Scarpa has no idea what's in store for her. After losing her brother last year to the Hunger Games, Scarpa is hurt, tired and wants change. Fate has a plan for her, and it involves a mysterious piece of ancient amber, given to her by an elderly lady...
1. Chapter 1 A New Day Dawns

The Amber Successor

Chapter 1: A New Day Dawns

**I do not own the Hunger Games, obviously. If I did, the stories would have gone VERY differently . Enjoy, R&R.**

Fingers drumming on a wood surface. Scarpa opened her sleep-encrusted eyes to an angry face not centimeters from her own. 'You lazy sod! Get up! Get up!'

She felt the sheet ripped from underneath her, causing her to fall onto the ground. She groaned, and shakily got to her feet. Her mother stood before her, hand on her hips. 'And what do you think you're doing? This is the second morning this month you've woken up late! It's 6am! All your siblings are up. And what do you have to say for yourself?'

'That Ovidio's not up yet.' Scarpa felt the stinging slap before she heard it. Her head cracked sideways, and black spots danced in front of her eyes.

'How dare you speak to me about your brother! He died in that bloody Hunger Games last year, that 74th one. Now, cut the cheek or I will.' Her mother lifted the carving knife from the sideboard.

'I am sorry, mother. I will try harder to wake up earlier. I shall attend to my chores now.' Scarpa acquiesced. She cowered away from her mother, and moved away to her bed. Pulling her night-shift over her head, she pulled on her day-clothes, a simple set of tight grey pants, with a blue blouse paired with it. She sat and pulled on her shoes. They were too tight but she hadn't the money to buy new ones. Still sleepy, she stumbled out of their simple hut into the pre-dawn gloom. Looking out from her position on top of a hill, she could see a lot of District 10. Small farms were the majority, however there were some larger and very large farms that took large swathes of land. Small pockets of forests dotted the land, along with abattoirs at intervals. The morning slaughter had begun, and she heard the echoing screams and cries of dying animals. After growing up with death and killing, she was deaf to the noises.

Turning back, she noted that her six siblings were up and about. Their farm was on the smaller side, however they managed to have a large amount of animals on it, like cows, pigs, deer, sheep and horses. Horses were the main form of transport in District 10, as cars were too expensive and the District was large. We were lucky enough to get a mare, which had birthed foals consistently over the years. Scarpa was lucky enough to get one, a bay colt whom she had called Maggot, on account of when he was young, he got cut, and got fly larvae in the wound. Scarpa had to pick the maggots out constantly until it healed. Now the only indication was a jagged scar on his hock. He was not affected by the injury, and he was a fast horse. Now four years old, he was a beautiful stallion, who was remarkably tame and calm, even when around mares in season.

Scarpa whistled, a two-note song repeated thrice. Lifting his head, Maggot whinnied a reply and came galloping up. She swung herself up onto his back, turning, and cantered down to District 10's main settlement. Nearing the marketplace, she slowed to a walk, and then halted at the entrance. Having broken in Maggot herself, she knew he wouldn't go anywhere. Dismounting, she gave him a quick rub of the neck, and then walked into the market. Quickly crossing to the herb stall, she shrugged off her shoulder pack, and spilled out all the herbs and vegetables onto the stall bench. An old woman peered down at the bounty. ''Tis all ya got, Scarpa? You pr'm'sed me moa last week. Where's tha' pr'm'se, eh? Mah word, 'tis ain't much, hon. I cannae give'ya much for 'tis, I really cain't. Yah gotta tell ya ma, I cain't give yeh as much nowadays, time's hard. I's poor too, yah know that.'

'Come on, Maghry! This is more then I got last week, you know that! You're trying to swindle me! How about I go to Sridia, I'll bet she'll be willing to give me a better price.'

'Nah, nah! Shese a swindler too, youse know that. Anyways, I'll give yah good price, I always do, yah silly girl, don't go w'rrying yah 15-year-old head 'bout it, kay? Now, I'll give you 35 silvers for the lot.'

'40.'

'37.'

'39.'

'38.'

'Fine, fine.' Scarpa said. She took the money from Maghry's outstretched palm, large wrinkles almost concealing the motely pile of silver and bronze coins. Scarpa was not pleased with the price, but times _were_ hard, and no one could afford to just give away things anymore. Maghry smiled, a her mouth a hideous mess of broken brown teeth and yellow gums.

'Sweetie, c'm here a mome't. Heyr, heyr, I gots somefin' for ya.' Maghry bent down underneath her stall, and withdrew a pouch. She shook out a small item, took Scarpa's hand, enclosed the item within and closed her fingers around it.

'Look, Mag, I can't take this. That's too special to you, I-'

'Scarpa, come back here tonight.' Maghry whispered vehemently, her speech suddenly clear in her haste to tell Scarpa. 'I know you don't want it, but you try the hardest out of that rotten family of yours, and I know you don't get anything for it but hits and scrapes.'

Scarpa nodded, and started to turn away, but Mag's firm grip on her wrist bade her stay. 'I mean it, Scar. We were all so sad when Ov died, but he got so close to winning! You took it the hardest, and no one was around to comfort you. Us here at District 10 all saved up to get this for you. So come back tonight, okay?'

Scarpa nodded, too emotional to speak. She turned away to allow Mag's next customer through. After all, she had chores to get to. Putting the token carefully in her pocket, she moved off to do her next errand.

After she finished her errands, Scarpa had one more thing to do. She took a deep breath, and knocked on a door. Its yellow paint was peeling, revealing the old grey wood underneath. It opened, revealing a tall, tanned muscular young man, with hair like spun gold and eyes of bronzed liquid mahogany. He smiled when he saw it was Scarpa, showing neat rows of pearly white teeth. However, one tooth was missing, his left lateral incisor. It didn't detract from his natural handsomeness, though.

'Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, eh?' He said, grinning.

'Nice to see you too, doofus.' Scarpa pushed him out of the doorway, and shut the door behind her. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him.

'I haven't seen you in a while. How about we get… better acquainted.' He murmured, and moved so as to kiss her.

'Guryon, this can't go on. We knew this. My parents are starting to suspect.' She firmly pushed him away.

'Scar, Scar, come on. We haven't even kissed. What do they think we're doing, making love?'

'Well yeah, you're of legal age and I will be soon. Of course that's what they think.'

'That's preposterous. You won't even let me do anything to you.' He leaned in again.

'As much as I want to.' She pushed him again, but put force behind the move. 'Guryon. No. We are not doing this. I can't- I just can't.'

He stepped back, a hurt look in his eyes. 'Scar, come on. I… I really like you, okay? We've been friends for years. Scar? Scar, look at me. Look me in the eyes. Now tell me we're over. Tell me you don't feel the same way.' His voice cracked slightly on the last note.

Strengthening her resolve, Scarpa looked him full in the eyes. 'Guryon. We're over. We never were together. Goodbye.' She let herself out, and didn't look back. If she had, she knew she could not have left.

When she got out of sight, the tears came. Running up a small hill, she came to a tree. With natural grace she flung herself from branch to branch, until she was near the top. She wailed, tears streaming down her face. Her nails dug into the bark until they bled. At last, the sobs subsided into quiet hiccups. She whistled, and as she was climbing down, Maggot appeared. Hopping onto his back, she headed for home.

Cresting the hill, she sighted her home. Scarpa couldn't see anyone, so she galloped to the house. Leaping of, she rushed to the well, and brought up some water. Washing her face, she rubbed vigorously. 'SCARPA!' She heard her mother call. She turned to see her storming out of the house. 'What are you doing? Where have you been? It's nearly noon. Where's my money?'

Scarpa meekly brought the money out, and deposited it into her mothers waiting hand. Her mother looked at it, and then slapped her daughter full in the face. Scarpa could feel the hot red outline of her mother's calloused hand on her cheek. 'That's not nearly enough. I got 10 children to feed, you and your 5 brothers and 4 sisters. You been crying, hmm? Has that boy dumped you like he should?'

'No, mother. I fell and hit my knee, so I cried.' Her mother looked annoyed.

'That's a silly reason to cry. Do you want me to give you a reason to cry?'

'No, ma'am. I'll get right to work.' The rest of the day was spent in chores, looking after the animals. At dinner, she at with her siblings, and her mother and her father. Her father often went to the pub to drink, however money was over-tight at the moment, not that that ever stopped him before. Tonight's meal was a simple fare of stale bread, and thin soup. Scarpa was grateful, however, as that was more then she got in winter.

When everyone was asleep, at almost midnight, Scarpa stole away. She left Maggot behind, as if caught it would be harder to explain why she took her horse with her. She made her way to Maghry's house, a small hut on the outskirts of the settlement. She was ushered in silently. Scarpa sat down on a small wooden chair, and gazed around. It was a simple dwelling, on a few metres each way. Wood was the primary material used in furnishings. There was a table and chairs, a small kitchen, a tiny fireplace, a cot in the corner, and a door leading to the outhouse. Surprisingly, it was very clean; there was not a speck of dust to be seen. Hung over all, bunches and bunches of herbs and vegetables presided from the ceiling. A fire had been lit, and infused the house with its rosy light, creating a cozy atmosphere. 'Thank you, Scah, for c'min'. Now, take uut what ah gave yah.'

Scarpa complied. Held within her hand was a drop of amber, and held within was a small, bronze beetle. 'Tha's a _cylindera celeripes_, also known as a 'swift tiger beetle'. They's was rare long time ago, now they's extincted. My mammy gave this to me, and her mammy to her, and so on, all the way since a long, long time ago.'

'Then why are you giving it to me?'

'Hunny, youse not stupid. I's an old woman now, ain't got no children left to give it to. Anyways, I has always admired youse for youse courage and determination to get the things ya gotta do done, even when it's hard, or ya gotta make a sacrifice. Now, I's lost three chilluns to that damned hunger games, and I knows ya lost a brother last year, so we gots lots in common. Youse a good girl, ya always follow ya gut, even if no one else thinks its right. And that's a good thing, girl. I's always admire youse for it. Tha's why I chose you as the amber's successor. Now, tha's a special piece o' jewellery. Is rarer then hen's teeth, and just as precious, 'cos there ain't nothin' like it, not ever again. Even in the Capitol, they ain't got nothin' like that. Now, the reason I asked ya here was not just to give you the background, but also to give ya a preposition. Now, the way I kept tha' safe was a special way. This is a hard way to have it, but is the only way I'll give it to ya.' She picked up a needle and thread. 'I gots to sow it to ya.'

What?' Scarpa was confused.

'I gots to sow it to ya. Like, where ya collarbone meets in the middle, on ya neck, in that little hollow.' Scarpa looked down, at the tanned smooth skin. She looked back up, hard with her resolve.

'Let's do it.'


	2. Family Butchers Together Stays Together

The Amber Successor- Chapter 2: A Family that Butchers Together Stays Together

**Shorter chapter this time, but gives some detail about Scarpa and her family. I hope you enjoy .**

'Wow,' Scarpa said in admiration, while looking at her neck. The drop of amber shimmered in the firelight, sending rays of yellow and orange to dance on the clay walls. 'It hurts, but it's beautiful. But, how did you sow it so it looks stuck on?'

'Ah, sweetie, there's small holes i'th'bottom o' that amber, tiny ones, that're meant for sowin'. Now, you gots to keep that hidden, or ya father- or mother'll take it from ya to sell. I's trusting you to keep that safe for me, hear?'

'Yes, Mags, of course. I love it. Thank you so much!' Scarpa leant forward and hugged her, becoming lost in the many folds and pockets of Maghry's dress. Maghry turned and took down some herbs, and bundled them up tightly in a small square of cloth.

'Now, that there is stitching, and it needs washing, or it's gonna get infecticated. So you take out just one leaf, and squeeze it into some clean water, add the leaf and wash it. That'll keep ya clean, all right?'

Scarpa nodded, and accepted the package. Saying her goodbyes, she hurried home.

Scarpa woke earlier then normal, so as to escape her mother's wrath. Waking one of her younger sisters, Lillian, who is 10 years old, she walked out into the very early morning. Lillian rubbed her light brown eyes, a total opposite to her sister's bright green. They both had the trademark tanned skin of their District, as everyone spent their days in the sun, looking after livestock. Scarpa was tired from her late night, but she couldn't let on how exhausted she was, as then her family would want to know why. Crossing to their barn, Scarpa held her sister's hand. Lillian was very pretty, with large oval eyes and a tiny face. 'You're so pretty, Lil. I wish I could be as cute as you.'

'Scar, you _are_ pretty. You are beautiful, and so petite. Why can't you see that?' Scarpa rolled her eyes, and Lillian sighed. Scarpa laughed, glad she was close to her small sister. She wasn't as close to her older sister, Rissia, who was 17. She was boy-crazy, and spent her days wooing potential suitors. Her younger sisters, twin 4-year-olds Awaina and Gremia, stayed together primarily. Her brothers kept to themselves, her older brother Archapu, 19 and married with a baby on the way; her younger brothers Finnis, 14; Riccko, 12; Orthias, 7; and Tobiko, 1.

Upon entering the barn, Scarpa and Lillian set to work, mucking out stalls, fetching and carrying water, feeding and watering, attending to ills, and other such chores. This morning, however, Scarpa had the thankless task of butchering a chicken and a sheep. Butchering was a two person job, one person cuts and the other cleans. They decided on the chicken first. Catching it was no mean feat, as they had to separate it from hundreds of other identical hens and then catch it. They then took it to the 'Cutter'; a small room with straps on the wall and a table in the middle. Straps were not necessary for a chicken, so it was lain on the table after being hypnotized by lines being drawn in front of its beak.

The good thing about growing up in District 10 was that Scarpa had had a lot of experience with knives. In her spare time she practiced with them. She could throw knives and hit targets, at a rate of five small knives a second, flicking them off her knuckles in quick succession. She had pin point accuracy, and could hit a target over 50 meters away. Those were the small knives, not unlike very sharp arrows. However, she was also lethal with long, wickedly curved knives, one in each hand. Twisting and turning, she could use her small frame to her advantage, ducking under defenses and slicing away. This tactic had helped her many a time with an angry bull, or an animal in the 'Cutter' that had gotten loose, and become enraged. She was nimble and quick, and could turn on a dime. She was also amazingly fast, luckily possessing a lean frame and muscles. She has deft fingers and hands, which were able to turn and flick lightening fast. All in all, she was a deadly adversary when equipped with knives, either large or small.

Deftly, she slit the chicken's throat, and flickered her knife around the body, slicing close to the skin, and then in a quick flourish, pulled the skin off, feathers and all. This caused a torrent of blood to run down the table to the center, which had a funnel leading to a bucket, which collected the blood. This blood would then go back into the animal's meals, and into the family's personal garden as a fertilizer, which was their way of recycling. Lillian was on standby with a bucket, ready to change in when full. Scarpa continued slicing, quick by years of practice, and easily cut out the parts that were needed, like breast, legs, wings and thighs. Other bits like the intestine went into another bucket, which would be used as food for the family later, in hard times. The skeleton and bones were pulled out- their marrow would make soup. Lillian sighed as she watched her sister. 'How did you get so good? I'm so clumsy when I do it, I often cut into the bits and make them worthless.'

Scarpa smiled grimly. 'When you've done it as much as I have, you tend to get good at it. Anyways, I'm five years older then you! Come on, let's get the sheep.' It took the two of them fifteen minutes to get one sheep into the 'Cutter'.

Holding it on the ground, she sheared it for the fleece- it would be either sold for money or made into a blanket or clothes. Scarpa knew it would probably be the former, even though they needed good bedding and clothes desperately. She then strapped it to the wall, and did the same as she did to the chicken- bleeding, skinning, cutting and deboning. Once the meat was cut, she then put it into specially marked bags, and put them into the deep freezer. With the intestines, she put them all into the smoke house, along with the hides.

A short time later, a truck pulled up- a rarity in her poverty-stricken District. Two Peacekeepers jumped out, and hauled the meat she cut into the back. A small amount of money was handed to her, and the truck trundled off. 'It's a scam,' Lillian complained. 'We don't even get half of what we should.'

Scarpa put her arms around Lillian. 'Hush, sweetheart, I know. People will tell you we can't do anything about it, but I know we can. We can make a difference in our short lives- I know we can. Now, come on, let's get out of these blood-soaked clothes and into our good ones- today's the reaping for the 75th Hunger Games.'


	3. The Reaping

**TAS Chapter 3: The Reaping**

**Hey! I'm glad some people are reading this, I know you are :) Please review, it only takes a second ! Just tell me what you think, please :) **

'Shh,' Scarpa murmured to Lillian, while she braided her hair. 'It's okay, I'm only in four times, three for each of my years and one from getting rations. I'm not going to get picked, Jacie Hirrs is, she has her name in thirty-seven times, 'cos her family's poor and needs the food. I'm not getting picked, okay? Now stop crying, we must put on a brave face. After all, this one is special, the third quarter quell.'

Lillian whimpered sadly. It was impossible for her to imagine that her sister could be Reaped. Nonetheless, she was afraid. She could feel the fear vibes coming from her sister. Scarpa's whole family had dressed up for the occasion, wearing their best clothes. Lillian was in a simple blue blouse and grey slacks. As she would not be Reaped this year, as she was too young, she was dressed very simply. Scarpa was wearing a light blue dress that she had embroidered herself, with small blue butterflies and butter-yellow flowers sown around the hem. The pattern was crude, but recognizable. Scarpa was quite proud of it. Scarpa had braided both their hair, her own slightly-curled blonde, and her sister's rusty blonde, and they wore matching blue ribbons. Rissia, her older sister, was wearing a short red dress with heels, a luxury in their District. Scarpa guessed she was being courted by one of District 10's wealthy. Scarpa was happy for her, and hoped she snagged the guy, as it would bring wealth to her family. She thought it would be more likely they would court, then bed, and then the chase would be over, and Rissia would be down a partner and wealth. She hoped for Rissia's sake she kept her legs closed this time, and kept the chase going until marriage.

Scarpa went to the barn first. Even though she was exempt from chores today, she still got her favorite knives from the wall. She got one long curved one and stowed it in the small of her back, and got six small ones, and put three in each boot. She knew she wouldn't need them, but it was always better to assume the worst. She rejoined her family at the hut and they set off for the town square.

Most walked, just as Scarpa's family did. Scarpa was apprehensive. Even though there was very little chance she would be chosen, she was still afraid. After Katniss' obstreperous stunt last year, the Capitol had become increasingly tighter on security in the districts. Whereas last year, they only had two peacekeepers in their District, they now had seven. This meant prices had been raised, food supply had gone down, and general activities had flatlined. Gatherings of any size had been forbidden. Scarpa knew that this was because the Capitol were afraid of another rebellion. Scarpa just hoped that Katniss would continue to lay low. Scarpa didn't want another rebellion, because she knew it didn't matter how many people or districts the rebellion had, the Capitol were stronger, and they had all the weapons and the power.

They had reached the square of District 10. Lining up, Scarpa reflected that it was like this every other year. Now that she was 15, Scarpa realized that she had attended two Reapings, and had not been chosen. She realized how lucky she was. She was woken from her reverie by a painful prick on her finger. She didn't wince, now accustomed to the pain that came regularly from the blood test. A peacekeeper pressed her finger to a page in front of her, leaving a smear of bright red blood that quickly oxidized to a rusty brown in the crisp morning air. Scarpa's mind was already elsewhere, staring out across the multitudes of faces that were turned away from her, facing towards the stage. She moved to her age group, eyes still scanning. Her mother, father and siblings not of an age to be Reaped moved to a bystanders area. Most parents were crying or wringing their hands nervously, however Scarpa's parents stood stonily, eyes cast forward towards the stage. A hush spread over the crowd as a tall, elegantly dressed woman strode confidently onto the stage.

Dressed in teal green chiffon, Dolores Cameron had towering hair the color of snow, which only added to her imposing figure. She was slim to the point of anorexia, but didn't seem to be frail. She moved quietly to the microphone, waves of thin fabric whispering across the hard wooden surface of the stage. Grasping the microphone with both hands, she smiled the smile of a cat about to pounce on it's prey.

'Welcome to the 75th Hunger Games,' an unusually high, nasal voice, which did not match her body, greeted her unresponsive audience. Her smile widened into a grin, showing cosmetically elongated teeth. 'And may the odds… be _ever_ in your favor.'

**Hey! I am so, so sorry about the length of time between updates! I just have a lot on at school recently, with exams and assignments. Now, however, I have a short break, so I hope to get another chapter out before the weekend is up.**

**Bear with me, all. I promise that I will try my best.**

**And remember! Just one review would be appreciated, and every review that comes makes those chapters come quicker, **_**and**_** it only takes one minute of your time! ****So, don't delay, write a review today!**

**-****Islaymca**


	4. District 10's Tributes

CHP 4 District 10's Tributes

Scarpa's heart fluttered. Her eyes sought Rissia, but she was standing with the other seventeen year olds. Her brothers Finnis and Riccko were standing in the fourteen and twelve year olds respectively. They looked nervous. Archapu looked the most nervous, as his wife Saaria was still in the running as she was eighteen. However, she was pregnant, and married, so it was probably rigged so she couldn't be picked. The Capitol needed their future tributes, after all.

Dolores gazed out over the assembled residents of District 10, her feline eyes seeming to stare right into the souls of everyone standing before her. 'As you all know, this is the Third Quarter Quell. So, we will announce what the theme for this _very_ special Hunger Games after your Victors have their turn, and I know you're all shaking in anticipation!'

Her nasal voice grated on Scarpa's ears, and she resisted the urge to cover them. She knew if she did, she would be labeled a 'troublemaker', and mysteriously disappear. The whole District knew what would happen, though- a new Avox would now wait on the citizens of the Capitol.

A short, pudgy woman waddled to the microphone. 'Hello, District 10!' Her jolly voice rang out over the crowd, and her fat jiggled in excitement.

'This is the Third Quarter Quell, and there are some extremely exciting news coming your way! I know how excited you are, so I'm going to let Tristram speak so you can hear it!' She waddled away, and lowered her portly bulk into a chair that strained under her weight. A slim, average height man sauntered up to the microphone. His piercing grey eyes shone out over the audience.

_Grey eyes?_ Scarpa was confused, she generally paid attention to the Reapings, and she'd seen Tristram before, but she never noticed his eyes. They were eyes of the Seam.

'Ah, the 75th Hunger Games. As my fellow Victor puts it, "an exciting one". Well, it ought to be interesting, after all, it is the one after Katniss beat the Capitol, heh.' He chuckled, while Dolores and Velia stared daggers at his back. 'Yes, of course it'll be interesting. Well, for the Capitol, but not you poor sods of District 10. No, you won't like it at all. After all, who would like-'

'Okay!' Dolores had intercepted Tristram's microphone from him and pushed him into a nearby seat. He looked mutinous. 'Hah, what great speeches from our Victors! How exciting it is! Now, onto finding out what our Third Quarter Quell is! But, first we must watch a video, a special announcement from the Capitol.' She stepped back, and clicked a button on a small box. A thin sheet was spread behind her, and a movie was projected onto it.

It was the same video every year, a film where the Capitol explains why they must have the Hunger Games. Only this time, the ending was different. It showed a beautiful District, filled with people smiling and laughing. After a few moments, people came down out of planes, and set fire to the buildings. The fire quickly spread, and people were screaming. Suddenly, lots of white Peacekeepers came running onto the screen, and shot the people that started the fires. It faded to black, and the message came onto the screen: **Joining a rebellion and Mocking the Capitol means death for you and your family. Play with fire, you'll get burnt.**

This again faded to black. A stunned silence greeted this change to the film. Scarpa knew this was a very un-subtle reference to Katniss, the Mockingjay. Scarpa thought who would be stupid enough to join a rebellion, after all, the Capitol were all-powerful. She wouldn't, that's for sure. Something that was unusual, though, about the message was that the Capitol actually did a message to all the Districts. They were usually so afraid of rebellion, the Districts had no contact whatsoever so as to discourage it.

Dolores was waiting for applause, so when none came, she was left standing there with a smile on her face. Still with a smile plastered, she walked to the microphone. 'Well,' she said, nasal voice ringing out into the tense silence. 'That was better then last years, yes? … Let's get onto the ceremony to announce this Hunger Games!'

An Avox walked up beside Dolores, carrying a small mahogany box, inlaid with gold. She undid the clasp and, with infinite delicacy, slid out a thin yellow envelope. She broke the seal with one long fingernail, and slowly pulled out a strip of paper. Stepping again to the microphone, she stated in a clear voice, 'This year marks the Third Quarter Quell. To celebrate seventy years since the Dark Days, the Tributes this year will consist of the eligible children of the remaining families of previous tributes.' A stunned silence greeted her words. A sob was heard. The bowls were brought out, and Dolores moved first to the girls bowl.

'The girl for this year's tribute, picked from the family members, who had a member taken for tribute, that are eligible for Reaping, is… Scarpa Dawn!'

Scarpa stood, rooted to the spot by disbelief. 'Wha…?' escaped her lips. She was stunned. Only ten minutes before had she been completely sure of not being Reaped, and now… she was a Tribute. Peacekeepers grasped her arms, and started leading her to the stage. A shrill scream echoed out, and a small girl fought her way to Scarpa. Her golden hair flashed in the sunlight, and Scarpa realized it was Lillian.

'No! No, nono, no!' Lillian was shrieking, and attached herself to Scarpa's legs. Scarpa's body was not working, and everything seemed to be in slow motion. Archapu was beside her in a moment. His fingers gently pried Lillian off Scarpa, and his mouth was next to her ear.

'I'll keep her safe.' His words were but a breath of wind, soft as a whisper. Lillian was hiccupping with grief, her little arms waving around, trying to get to Scarpa. Scarpa felt herself being steered away from them, and propelled towards the stage. Her legs ascended the stairs, not by her own accord. She felt her shoulder be grasped by a light hand.

'The female Tribute from District 10!' A smattering of applause. Her parents stared at her. She felt like staring at herself. 'Now, for the male Tribute.' Her hand dipped into the boy bowl.

'Fraco Iabi!' A small, weak and sickly boy struggled to stand from his sitting position. He was pulled towards the stage by Peacekeepers. Scarpa closed her eyes. She knew he would not make it through the Hunger Games, and she would have to try and protect him. As awful as it was, this made her feel exasperated.

'I volunteer as Tribute!' A strong voice thundered over the assembled crowd. Scarpa's eyes instantly opened. _No, no! It can't be…_ It was.

'Our new tribute is Guryon Artaxias!' Scarpa went paler then she already was. Her eyes sought him, and his tall frame instantly caught her attention. He strode to the stage, and, deciding not to take the stairs, jumped straight up. Standing next to him, she was dwarfed, even while being taller then most other girls.

'Now, shake hands.' Applause sounded, and crying was the undercurrent noise. Turning, Scarpa glared at Guryon. He smiled at her, one lock of hair flopping over an eye as he looked down at her face. She scowled at him, sending daggers his way. A hand outstretched her way. She shook it, and his hand lingered on hers for a moment longer. She wrenched her hand away from his, and turned to face the crowd.

'Let's hear it for the District 10 Tributes!'

**Well! That was quite exciting. And yeah, I know it's a little predictable. Ah well.**

**What do you think? Please R & R, I would **_**love**_** to hear your thoughts!**


End file.
